It took several months for Nancy Kittridge to succumb. She’d personally witnessed her brother and his girlfriend fornicating orally on a number of occasions. One cannot witness human copulation without wistfully wondering after one’s own participation in the Mating Game.

Nancy was not a virgin. Unlike her brother's public confession, she’d fallen from grace as a seventeen-year-old, repented quietly without consequence, and stayed within the good graces of the Church. A good number of Jehovah’s witnesses repent their sins silently without ever being publicly reproved.

In Nancy’s case, she’d given up her virginity to one of Tony Gangels’ uncles repeatedly over the course of a worldly holiday weekend. She’d enjoyed the experience in the moment, repenting her sin after the man went home. From that time to this, she worked on her spirituality while struggling to refrain from delving back into the sensuality that experience had unleashed. Seeing Jules and Delphia fornicate so lavishly caused Nancy to lose her battle against the masturbatory imperative. She was almost twenty years old now. Like most young people, her loins were afire from the moment she awakened each day.

Jules’ ex-communication from the Church left him in a precarious position. As an eighteen-year-old, technically he was grown. His parents had no obligation to keep his sinful ass under their roof. On any given day Jules knew that he could return from school and find his bags packed and on the curb. Indeed, his father Bill Kittridge faced subtle pressure from the other Church elders to treat the boy thusly. It was generally agreed that such discipline would be useful in bringing Jules back into the Christian fold.

Bill Kittridge agreed with this assessment. Instead of implementing it, though, he made Jules and Nancy swap rooms. Jules moved upstairs; Nancy moved downstairs. Bill felt that having Jules sleep upstairs would severely curtail his nightly extracurricular activities with Delphia. Surely the boy didn’t have the cajones to fornicate in the bedroom right next to his parents!

“I need to keep a better watch on him," Jules' father surmised.

Additionally, Jules was shunned at home. He was allowed to sit thru family Bible study but not allowed to comment or question. His parents and siblings enforced a very limited subset of conversational topics, usually concerning school and/or Jules’ plans for the future.

Jules faced the imminent danger of being involuntarily emancipated.

Jules took all this in stride. His most immediate concern was the loss of sexual relief. He wasn't allowed to stay late after school anymore. He wasn’t allowed to attend football games. He'd lost Delphia. His only choice was to skip classes in order to wetten his dick. This he did at every opportunity. His grades suffered. When his parents found this last bit out, Jules was sure he’d be out on the streets. But what could he do? Once you start fucking you can’t just stop cold turkey.

Jules and his sister Nancy remained secretly close. When their parents were around, Nancy made sure to regard Jules with that smarmy, high-handed disdain JW’s reserve for the fallen. Her comments to him were short and snippy, dripping with JW church ooze. In private, however, she and he commiserated. Jules told her of the agony he suffered borne of his sudden celibacy. Nancy confided that she, too, felt those pangs of loss. In their unguarded moments, she held her brother tenderly as his rampant biology unfolded before her. Jules seemed to be possessed of perpetually unaddressed erections. Even his sister’s touch caused his penis to rise. Nancy noticed it. It was so big!!

As children, Jules and Nancy had bathed together often. This stopped when Nancy began to develop secondary sexual characteristics at the age of ten. Nancy had seen Jules naked since then, but the reverse had not been true. Beneath those plain JW outfits, Nancy had developed into a voluptuous young woman with swinging tits, a svelte waist and a rounded ass. In profile, one could easily see her protruding pubic mound.

Nancy never wore tight clothing. Her clothes were often baggy, hiding her feminine assets, like most JW women. The only chance to see Nancy in profile would be on those rare occasions when she streaked from the family bathroom to her bedroom in her panties and bra.

Nevertheless, Nancy was sexually curious. Surreptitiously, she began to seek opportunities to see Jules’ penis rise. It was a personal fetish. She’d be lurking in the hallway in the mornings when Jules exited his bedroom and made his way into the bathroom, his morning woodie always evident, always hidden in his boxer shorts, protruding like a third leg. Nancy wanted to see the real thing. She’d seen it in the darkness of their backyard, just before it was hidden again inside Delphia’s vagina or her maw. The glimpse of her brother’s cock helped as Nancy toyed with her own genitalia.

Jules now informed Nancy that he was still skipping some classes to fornicate with Martha Castellanos, Paula Fuller and Sandy Mathurin. Nancy insisted that he describe each interaction in detail, taking pains to describe what each girl did to make him cum and how it felt to have their buttocks pressed against his pelvis. Nancy made sure to give him the smarmy JW look of disapproval. But she listened intently nonetheless.

“You'd better make sure mom and dad don't find out." Nancy cautioned.

At night Nancy would imagine herself to be Martha, Paula or Sandy. She imagined Jules atop her. She imagined his penis thrusting deeply in her vagina. Masturbating to this vision, Nancy would cum. Afterward, Nancy felt embarrassed and ashamed at her incestuous self-lovin’. But her devolutions into this magical fantasyland occurred with ever greater frequency. Her prayers did little to assuage her lust.

Nancy wondered if Jules harbored similar prurient thoughts. Try as she might, she could not rid herself of the vision of lying on her back, legs spread widely, mounted beneath him. Jules was the only person she’d ever witnessed having sex. Sure, she remembered her encounter with Joey Strong in great detail. But as time went on it was Jules’ sweaty face growling his lust atop her, not Joey’s. Jules was the only person she knew that might understand her fetish. They could never be in love. They simply shared a love of having intercourse. Nancy listened intently as Jules described his angst at being celibate. He was not. No, Jules had occasional relief. Nancy had none. She yearned to tell him of her predilection, but could not bring herself to do so.

Instead, she found every occasion to surreptitiously measure his endowment and compare it against her own. She even made it her business to give him "unintentional" nipple slips and/or pussy shots. She then watched his reactions, always proud to see that her efforts bore fruit. Jules’ penis tented at the drop of a hat.

Finally and inevitably, these little dalliances came to a head. Nancy chose a weekday in which Jules’ complaints about his lackanookie peaked. She waited for the moment when Jules stepped into the shower and their father was at work. Their mother, Abby Kittridge, was downstairs cooking. Nancy gathered her courage, stripped her clothing (except for a bathrobe), and slipped into the bathroom as Jules showered.

Jules didn’t hear her come. The radio was playing, the shower was loud, the bathroom was steamy. Jules lathered himself from head to toe. He began to stroke his penis. Jules masturbated languidly every time he bathed. He had to.

Nancy scooched her bathrobe up and sat on the toilet. She peeked behind the shower curtain to watch Jules. His eyes were closed. His cock was hugely erect, hidden beneath a foamy cloud of soap bubbles. Nancy suspected he would masturbate until he came.

This wouldn’t do.

Nancy stood. She doffed her bathrobe to stand naked in the middle of the bathroom floor. She needed to catch Jules' attention without seeming to be too forward. Thinking quickly, Nancy bent to reach under the sink, making sure to knock over a few cleaning bottles, making enough noise to make her presence known.

Astonished at not being alone in the shower, Jules peeked out from behind the curtain. He was even most astonished to witness Nancy from behind, bent over, her neatly coifed pussy blazing confidently from between her buttocks. Already aroused, Jules’ penis leaped. What was Nancy doing standing naked in the bathroom while he showered? Look at that ass!!!

Nancy continued to piddle around under the sink. Swaying her ass sensually, she knew Jules was gazing at her pussy from behind. She wanted him to have a good, long look. She’d done as much as a girl could do. It was his move now.

Jules’ mind raced. Instinct told him to pounce on that ass and ram it in. But this was his sister!! More than that, this was his only friend and confidante in the house. He could lose her if he made such an inappropriate move without her consent.

And yet he wondered, why was she even in there? It’s not as if she’d been in the bathroom first and he'd barged in on her. Nancy's presence was no accident. If she’d needed to pee so badly, there was another bathroom downstairs. Plus, she was naked!! Who goes looking for Comet cleanser in the nude? Something had to be up.

Now a wicked thought occurred. Nancy had been really persistent, lately, to hear tales of his exploits. She’d made him go into detail and questioned him closely about the smallest minutiae. She’d wanted him to describe every sensation he felt during his sexual escapades, claiming ignorance of the male perspective. Maybe, just maybe, Nancy was signaling her readiness for a walk on the wild side? It was worth a shot, anyway.

Leaving the water running to mask any sound, Jules stepped naked from the shower. Streamlets of clear, hot water pebbled and ran down his chiseled body. His cock, already erect, locked onto Nancy’s open pussy like a lurking jaguar. He stepped up behind her, intending to accidentally-on-purpose bump his dick up against her cunt. He hoped she’d jump to the moon and they each could have a good laugh at the expense of the other.

Creeping up behind her quietly, Jules didn’t have to point his dick into her crease. Nancy was still bent over, unaware of his proximity. Her ass swayed before him. From this position, their genitals were perfectly aligned.

Jules watched intently as his cock zeroed in on her pussy. He couldn’t believe that Nancy hadn't detected his presence behind her yet. Most people can sense the nearness of another individual if the intruder encroaches too closely. Jules' toes were almost touching Nancy's heels now. In another millimeter, the crown of his dick would press her fuzzy opening. Jules watched the impending collision with fascination. That first merger of cock and pussy is always the most erotic of any ongoing tryst.

Closer and closer still. Now Nancy’s pubic hair began to tickle Jules' urethra, allowing him to sniff the heaven-shielded behind her clasping labia. Jules drew a deep breath. He was almost there. A small nudge forward and his cockhead was bathed in the translucent stickiness of queen pussy. Nancy’s cunt yielded before his imminent insertion.

But Nancy did not jump or shriek. She held her ground before Jules’ penile assault. In fact, she didn’t seem surprised at all. She looked up at him as if he'd interrupted her while working a crossword puzzle at the kitchen table. Her look bore a mixture of curiosity and annoyance. And yet her hips continued to sway gently, allowing Jules’ penis purchase at the opening to her vagina proper.

It was Jules' turn to be surprised. Kittridge dick rested in the valley of Kittridge slit, not all the way in but not all the way out either. Nancy was amazingly wet already. Jules was already familiar with the ethereal joy of a sloppy wet cunt. The slightest thrust would bathe his cock in incestuous slather. And there Nancy was, acting as if the whole encounter were an entirely natural interaction between siblings.

Jules placed his hands upon her quivering buttocks. Still, Nancy didn’t move away. An eternity of indecision ensued. Did she want to fuck? Because Jules' cock was certainly engaged and raring to go. But this was his older sister!! Did he want his sister to suffer the same congregational shunning that he was currently enduring? No, he did not. And they were practically best friends!! How would their relationship be affected by this impending action? Ramming your dick up a woman's twat always complicates things; it never simplifies. Jules was morally torn.

Ultimately, of course, Jules' penis made the decision for him. Holding Nancy’s ass steady, he pressed forward. Her pussy expanded widely before closing sloppily along the line of his veiny shaft. Four inches of cock disappeared into her vagina. The familiar blinding wave of initial insertion engulfed Jules’ sensibilities. Nancy did not demur. There could be no doubt. This was consent.

They were officially fornicating.

Nancy unleashed a full-body shiver. She’d waited an eternity for just this outcome. She’d trusted Jules with news of her secret affair with Joey Strong. She’d held her peace during Jules’ religious inquisition. Jules was the only person she could fully trust. And now his dick was easing its way up her ass. So thick!! So deep!!! Nancy shivered again. They began to roil in tandem.

A woman’s vagina is arched to accept a seven-inch penis from the missionary position. An erect cock slips into this arch like a glove so that all her erotic zones are in play. Her tits, her lips and, most importantly, her eyes are fully engaged as a dick probes her cunt.

From behind, however, it’s the reverse. The upward arc of a man’s cock gouges an unintended wedge in the reverse arc of a woman’s pussy. The result, for women, is an unnatural pressure that makes a dick feel thicker and heavier. Such a dick is capable of roiling greater surface area, eliciting deeper penetration. It exaggerates the illusion of size. Often, doggystyle sex creates air pockets in vaginas, generating that thwacking noise so critical to the perception of “great sex”.

Nancy’s senses were fully engaged as her brother sluiced his penis into her. Normally, such first encounters end quickly and awkwardly, followed by the shame and embarrassment of having one’s fantasies so exposed. Nancy did climax quickly. She hadn’t been fucked in several years. She was more than ready to be righteously railed.

Jules wasn’t so disposed. He wasn’t "in love" with Nancy, indeed, had never fantasized about her. Only the sight of her exposed punani while he was masturbating led to this encounter. Plus, his recent activities gave him a measure of immunity against the thrill of new pussy. When Nancy skittered downward from her orgasm and realized that Jules was still back there pounding away she was grateful. She knew that the aftermath of this fuck was likely to be an uncomfortable change in their relationship. She wanted to explode into bliss several more times before that happened.

Nancy straightened. She pressed her sweaty left cheek and both her tits against the wall, poking her ass out that Jules might have a better target. She opened her legs a bit. The rhythmic slapping of their intercourse reverberated throughout the little bathroom, though the running shower and the radio dampened the sound. Jules held Nancy’s ass steady as he rammed his cock into her. Nancy quivered uncontrollably. Soon this would be over. There would be consequences, maybe some regrets. But right now Nancy’s biology was dictating her behavior. She needed this in the worst way.

“Oh god, it’s GOOD!!” she thought. “I can repent in silence again. And I will. But right now I need this. Oh GOD, I need this!!!”

Jules’ portly penis was a tremendous balm for Nancy’s smolder. Delphia had really taught him well. He reached around to caress her breasts even as his cock continued to thunder home. In. Out. IN. OUT. Each thrust lifted Nancy off the floor. She was enthralled. Her only other sexual tryst had been (repeatedly) quick and violent. Joey had mounted her missionary; the two of them came (repeatedly) in tandem. Today’s encounter was Nancy’s first attempt at doggystyle.

It was not Jules’ first. Two orgasms in, Jules knew it was time for a little rump rangery. Still stunningly erect, Jules withdrew his dripping missile from Nancy’s cunt. Nancy slumped. She was dizzy from her most recent implosion. Jules took this moment to slather his erection in hot water and soap. Soon enough his cock was shrouded in foam.

When Nancy felt Jules' cockhead probing her buttocks open again, this time seeking her sphincter, she was a little chagrined. She assumed it a mistake. She arched her back to offer up her puss. Jules declined. He eased back, knowing well the difference between the two split entrances. Nancy’s eyes widened.

“No. NO!!” she exclaimed.

But it was too late. Slick with sudsy lubricant, Jules’ steaming cock found and penetrated her outbox. Nancy began to struggle. Jules calmed her.

“Shhhhushh. Relax,” he cajoled.

Nancy stiffened. In her wildest dreams she hadn’t expected this. Jules hadn't mentioned that Delphia had shown him the southern highway. Nancy's sexual imagination didn’t yet extend that far. She’d only hoped that maybe, just maybe her brother might grace her cunt in tongue. That's as far as she'd dared fantasize beyond this singular tryst.

The suds on Jules’ cock eased some of her pain. His dick was fat. Once he got his pud past her muscular gatekeeper, the slide into funkytown was a fait accompli.

Nancy gritted her teeth and bore it. She’d never experienced the like. Jules pressed forward. Nancy felt that she was in labor, great with child. No. She was great with dick.

Just as Nancy was reaching the limit of her endurance she felt the welcome flap of Jules’ nuts between her thighs. He was hilted. Instead of easing back for a second thrust, Jules held his penis steady, fully clamped inside Nancy’s ass. Nancy breathed a sigh of relief. It was her turn now. She took a few deep...